


Like We'll Be Whole Again

by sanguineteeth



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, i guess this is kinda fluffy??, steve can get drunk, steve drowns in his bucky feels just like all the rest of us poor suckers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguineteeth/pseuds/sanguineteeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bucky returns and remembers most of what happened after the fall, he is deemed safe and released from constant supervision. Steve and him share a drink for the first time again, reunited. Steve had meant to enjoy himself, he really did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like We'll Be Whole Again

**Author's Note:**

> Written with Nico Stai – Like Alcohol (A Hole the Size of) on repeat.
> 
> (Wherein Steve lets himself feel his guilt of not saving Bucky, and he’s still family, he always was, but the old Bucky is gone and they need to relearn each other.)

Steve never thought he’d get to have this again, never thought he’d get to feel like this again.

Steve and Bucky are sitting by the window of Steve’s apartment, bottles of whiskey and beer and things Steve doesn’t remember littering the coffee table that got shoved right up against the sill. This is the first drink they’ve had together since Bucky’s returned. Steve visited Bucky constantly as he regained his memories, but this is also the first time Bucky’s been allowed out alone after months in therapy and constant surveillance from select former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Steve was beyond excited to finally get to talk to Bucky without anyone watching and time disappeared as the drinks were downed one after another. In between the drinks they laugh at all the latest stupid things Bucky’s remembered; all the tiny details Steve thought he was the only person to own now, that he didn’t share with anyone else who was still living.

It’s almost as though they’re back in Brooklyn and it’s 1939 and Steve didn’t get big and Bucky didn’t die because Steve couldn’t reach him when he needed him most.

Steve sits in a chair at the small table, his head resting on the arm he’s got splayed across the table, the other nursing his drink. Maybe he’s a little giddy on the alcohol, and it’s blurring his vision for sure. His heart swells looking up at Bucky, sitting on his windowsill looking out into the night sky to the sky-scraping apartment buildings with lights that blink in the dark of the night. His left leg is propped up, pressed against the windowpane with his left elbow resting on his knee, cigarette dangling from his fingertips. His right arm rests on his thigh. Bucky is silhouetted against the lights but he looks almost brighter than them and maybe even brighter than the stars themselves. He takes a drag from the cigarette, smoke wispy and wafting around his long hair.

Steve can’t believe he gets to have this and the inches between his hand and Bucky’s leg seem worlds apart. He’s so close he would only have to reach out to touch him but it wouldn’t be the same; Bucky isn’t the same after he _died_ and lost an arm and assassinated dozens of people. He’s so close and yet Steve knows there are parts of him that are gone, that will never come back. He stares at the fall of Bucky’s brown hair around his face.

Steve swallows and tries not to, but his heart and gut twist, clenching, and he can’t help rasping, “Bucky.”

Bucky turns and looks at him with his still blue eyes and looks at Steve who for his life can’t tell him, can’t tell him how it felt to lose him, how it felt to be Captain America and to be unable to save the most important person in his life. He can’t explain the murderous rage that consumed him at the thought of Hydra, how close he was to losing it every night he spent knowing Bucky was dead and how he never thought he’d feel like this again, feel like he does when he’s with Bucky and they don’t have to say a word and they just _are_.

Steve tries not to choke and he feels his face grow hot. To his dismay, his eyes start welling with tears and his brow pinches and he just can’t school his face because all he feels is all the pain and hurt and _relief_ crashing over him because Bucky, Bucky’s back _and yet he isn’t all back, he never will be._

Steve knows it’s written all over his face and he wanted them to just have a fun night drinking and talking, but Bucky slowly smiles and it breaks Steve’s heart—his uniquely crooked Bucky smile that crinkles the edges of his eyes and softens his strong brow. It’s all in his eyes and he doesn’t have to say anything for Steve to know that he _knows_ but they’re still here and they’ll be alright after all, won’t they?

Steve feels a stab of guilt that even now, despite all that Bucky’s been through, he’s still the one that tries to protect him like the mother hen he’s always been.

Bucky reaches for Steve’s hand and Steve grasps it, hopes it tells him everything he doesn’t know how to say, and Bucky whispers, “I know.”

And of course Bucky knows. He always did.


End file.
